


invisible string

by hanzios



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Falling In Love, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27283765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanzios/pseuds/hanzios
Summary: It’s morbid to think it took Jackson to get shot for Miller to notice him.OR: Missing Mackson scenes in the events leading to Praimfaya
Relationships: Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller
Comments: 12
Kudos: 13





	invisible string

**Author's Note:**

> before i binged the 100 less than a month ago, i already knew that jackson and miller were going to get together (i have a bad habit of reading wikis of a show's characters during watching said show lmao). i was thinking of many scenarios of how they would've crossed paths. safe to say, i was disappointed that most of their developing relationship remained off-screen.
> 
> thus, this fic was born. i wrote in a couple missing scenes to fill in what's already in the canon t100 mackson universe. i hope this does them justice. <3
> 
> also! fic is inspired by 'invisible string' by taylor swift. as is the last line of this work. :)

**invisible string**

It’s morbid to think it took Jackson to get shot for Miller to notice him.

Because, if he was honest, he _did_ notice the good doctor around Arkadia before – he’d gone to Medical countless of times; different injuries every time. He’d found him attractive, sure, but Miller never entertained those thoughts any further. He had a boyfriend; he wasn’t really an asshole, but he wasn’t blind, either.

But, admittedly, Miller had only _noticed_ noticed Jackson when he was pressing a hand on the other man’s arm, deep crimson blood pouring out of it profusely.

Ever since that incident, Miller found himself watching Jackson a little bit closer.

He was stationed to guard the lab most hours, what with him feeling most useful when he’s _actually_ doing his job, despite the lack of threats. However, when it’s Wilson or Taggart’s shift, Miller would either retreat to the luxurious mansion or, just as what he’s doing now, sit around at the lab, doing nothing in particular.

Nobody questioned why Miller always hung around the lab even though he’s never shown interest in their experiments. They’d just assume he had nothing better to do, what with the area being cleared of danger days ago.

He let them think that. No need to announce his true intentions to the world, anyway, even if they’re most likely gonna die in a few days.

Miller had removed his jacket at the small lounging room upstairs, deeming it safe to walk around the lab. Abby was busy talking with Raven on one corner, which left Jackson at the lower level, eyes glued to the screen in front of him. The man kept alternating between the microscope and the monitor, face firm and focused.

 _Cute_ , Miller mused, watching him from his position near the storage room.

He pushed himself off the wall, walking towards the man. Jackson didn’t seem to notice him approach, too engrossed in his work to care about anything else. He’d been in the lab for hours on end, never returning to the mansion for rest.

Not that Miller was checking.

“What’s that?” he asked.

That seemed to shock the doctor, his shoulders rising momentarily at the sound of company. He looked back up to Miller, trying to hide his surprise. Miller smirked.

“I’m comparing samples of Nightblood to normal blood,” he explained, gesturing to the screen that looked more like gibberish to Miller. “I’ve been trying to isolate the organelles of Luna’s blood cells with the centrifuge to understand its structure further. So far, I’ve found that their cellular response–“

Miller put a hand up, blinking. “English, Jackson.”

Jackson turned to him, a sheepish look on his face. “Sorry. The point is, I’m checking out what’s in _their_ blood that’s not on ours.”

Miller nodded. He got that part. Science was never his strong suit when he was still attending classes on the Ark. He’d slept through most lectures and skipped the rest to make out with his boyfriend on small janitor closets and unauthorized rooms.

The thought of Bryan made him pause for a second, a lump settling on his throat.

“You okay, Miller?” Jackson’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

He clicked his tongue, nodding. “Yeah.” Before he could stop himself, he said, “Look, I’m going back up the mansion. You should come with. You look like shit, no offense.”

(If Miller was being perfectly honest, Jackson _didn’t_ look like shit, which was crazy, knowing he’d been stuck down here working for _way_ too long for any normal human being.)

Jackson, to his surprise, only snorted. “Ah. Well. If that’s the case…”

The doctor stood up from his chair, a hand immediately falling to his lower back, a small moan escaping his mouth. Miller let his eyes follow down his body for a beat before looking back at Jackson.

“Let’s go,” he said, leading the way.

Jackson bid farewell to Abby, just before promising to be back in five hours. His mentor practically shooed him away, telling him to come back _after_ he’s fully rested. The two men wished them well before exiting the lab in comfortable silence. The trek up towards the mansion was short, yet they had to go through thick layers of trees to reach their destination.

Miller noticed that Jackson wasn’t much of a talker. He knew that before, pegging the guy as the shy, reserved type, but that impression grew stronger as they walked. It didn’t bother him, though. Miller could talk enough for the both of them, telling stories about their fight with the Grounders before the Ark came down, the horror of Mount Weather, and, grumbling sarcastically about the fact that he hadn’t been able to catch a break since he’s been on Earth.

Jackson laughed at all his jokes, even the dry ones. Which was new for Miller since most people he knew would just pin his sarcasm as disrespect. It made him smile.

“At least you have someone to share that with,” Jackson said in the middle of Miller’s many, many complaints. “Your life, I mean. Someone to spend the bad times with.” There was a tinge of loneliness in his words that made Miller’s heart crack.

From a distance, Miller could spot the lights emanating from the mansion. He swallowed. “Not anymore.”

“What do you– Oh.”

Silence blanketed the both of them, their journey nearing its end.

“I’m sorry,” was all Jackson said as they reached the mansion.

Miller waved a hand in nonchalance. “Nah, don’t worry. It was ages ago.” He went to open the glass door, holding it for Jackson.

They said goodnight not long after that, Jackson’s room only being a door away from Miller’s. He didn’t disturb the doctor any further; he knew he needed to rest. Besides, the soldier needed to lie down and push the thought of his last relationship behind him.

Honestly, Miller didn’t know how he felt about Jackson. He didn’t know if what he’s feeling was real or if it was just the end of the world talking. These are insane times, and trying to save the world _while_ navigating his own feelings are two tasks too tough to balance.

Even so, he’s sure about one thing, though: if, for some insane miracle, the both of them make it out of this alive, he’s going to keep Jackson close.

Even if it’s just as friends.

+

They’ve had brief conversations after that night, in between quick meals in the kitchen, or when passing each other in the mansion’s hallways, or, most frequently, inside the lab. Miller had expressed interest in Jackson during those moments, slipping in casual flirtations, but none had been reciprocated so far.

It’s either a) Jackson’s simply not interested; b) he’s not interested in _men_ ; or c) he’s an oblivious idiot.

Miller quickly erased the third option out of the realm of possibility. Because one thing Jackson definitely _wasn’t_ is an idiot. So, that left him with a) and b).

In between their conversations, Jackson never really explicitly told him about relationships, or, more specifically, sexual preferences. In the Ark, they’ve been taught to assume people’s sexualities were fluid until they’ve been told by the person otherwise. Thing is, Miller _hadn’t_ been told by Jackson otherwise. Therefore, he’s still holding out on that b) option.

Which left him with a) Jackson is simply not interested in him.

This was, most probably, the worst-case scenario. At least if Jackson were straight, he had the perfect excuse not to reciprocate Miller’s feelings.

But briefly, Miller quipped, maybe that was a good thing.

He still wasn’t even sure of the strength of his attraction to the doctor.

Quietly, he wondered if a) was more of a best-case scenario for both of them. Miller didn’t have to get attached to someone, and Jackson is saved from the trouble of heartbreak when he realizes Miller doesn’t know what he wants.

All that is blown away, however, when they’re on the front seats of a truck coming back to Polis.

“How long are you staying?”

“Quick turnaround,” Miller replied, too busy with the bags. “If you forgot anything at the lab, let me know.”

“Or I could keep you company.”

The soldier stopped, looking up at Jackson, who was staring at him with the same placid expression on his face. Miller couldn’t believe his ears, momentarily wondering if he’d even heard the man correctly.

_Was Jackson flirting with him?_

Jackson bobbed his head slightly as if answering the question in Miller’s mind.

A smirk spread across Miller’s face, and immediately, the older man reciprocated his grin. The Jackson sitting in front of him looked like a different person to the one he’d known, but _damn it,_ if he wasn’t turned on.

“Okay,” Jackson looked him over before exiting the car.

Miller took a second longer to do the same, still partially in disbelief.

As he walked through the snow, slightly disoriented, Miller realized he forgot to account for option d) _Miller_ was the oblivious idiot who never noticed that all this time, in his own little way, Jackson _had_ been flirting back.

+

The cell was dingy and small, its floors painted with layers of dried blood.

It surprised Miller how unshaken he was about the whole situation. He figured, after so many near-death experiences within less than a year, being a prisoner of Azgeda wasn’t really cause for too much concern. Not yet, anyway.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he was a stranger to being imprisoned before.

However, Jackson looked more anxious, knees up to his chest, sitting beside Miller with a respectable distance between them. It was valid, though. The doctor probably hasn’t been in a prison cell before, much less one run by the fucking Ice Nation.

Miller inched himself closer to him, bound wrists on his lap.

“Hey,” he whispered.

Jackson looked up at him with his big brown eyes.

“This isn’t how I planned my night to go,” Miller joked with a little nudge on Jackson’s shoulder.

He let out a breath, almost sounding like a chuckle. “Me neither.”

Miller allowed the silence between them, taking the time to look around. There were a few Grounders among them, either standing with their chains on the wall or sitting down, like they were. Kane and Abby were sitting on a bench across them, whispering among each other.

“Don’t worry,” Miller finally spoke. “They’re not gonna hurt us.”

“You sure? They seemed very intent on killing us a minute ago.” There was a sense of panic escaping Jackson’s mouth as he spoke, cutting and sharp. The doctor’s eyes remained firm on his bound wrists.

Miller edged his head closer, but not too close to be seen as an invasion of space.

“I’m gonna protect you.”

That made Jackson turn to him. “You barely know me.”

Miller shrugged. “So? I like you, Jackson.” The older man’s eyes widened just the slightest bit, his dark pupils dilating. “Let me know you.”

Jackson’s big browns softened, a small smile forming on the corner of his lips.

Miller rested his back on the concrete wall, not taking his eyes off of the easing of Jackson’s facial features. “God knows I’ve talked about myself enough.”

“I like hearing you talk,” Jackson said.

“Who doesn’t?” Miller teased, earning a laugh out of Jackson. He gently nudged the other man’s knee with his own. “Come on. Tell me about Eric Jackson.”

“Do you want a quick run-through, or do you want the long story?” Jackson replied with the same teasing tone.

Miller waved his joined wrists towards the air. “We got all the time in the world,” he said, hoping their conversation would steer Jackson away from the worry he’d clearly been showing moments earlier.

Jackson nodded, still smiling. “Well.” He shifted his position a bit; his left shoulder pressed on the concrete wall so he could look at Miller better. The younger man mimicked his position, their fists almost touching between them.

“I grew up in Alpha Station with my mom. My dad died when I was young, so I don’t remember him much. I liked school, and I was good at it too.” If it were any other person, Miller would’ve thought they were bragging. But this was Jackson; he wasn’t. “When I was, um, fourteen, my mom fell sick. _Really_ sick. They couldn’t give her proper care at Medical, since medicine was rationed, so I mostly took care of her recovery.

“I read up on her illness and learned that she should’ve been taking these various antibiotics twice a day. But because of lack of resources, I only gave them to her once a day.” His eyes remained wistful as he’s talking. Miller could only listen intently. “When I wasn’t in school or taking care of her, I’d be in Medical, talking to the doctors and asking them questions. They mostly just ignored me. Who wouldn’t?”

The both of them exhaled, smiling.

“Abby didn’t,” Jackson continued, his eyes falling on Abby from the other side of the room, before returning to his story. “She was patient with me, talked me through how to take care of my mother. Mom died, though… a few months later, just before I turned fifteen.”

Miller bumped his knuckles on Jackson’s, fingers itching to touch him. “I’m sorry.”

The ghost of a sad smile played across Jackson’s lips. “That’s when I decided to be a doctor. I finished school early, then was recruited by Abby for an apprenticeship at seventeen. I officially became a doctor last year; I was one of the youngest doctors the Ark has ever had.”

Miller was – and this was an understatement – in awe of what Jackson had accomplished in his life in spite of the grief (and his age). Hell, when Miller was seventeen, just less than seven months earlier, he was in the Sky Box for petty theft, waiting for the council to decide his fate.

“ _Wow,_ ” was all Miller could say. He didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with a person so quickly, but just after a few minutes, there were no longer any doubts in his mind that he was absolutely _whipped_ for the man in front of him.

Jackson blushed a deep red against Miller’s gleaming eyes. “What?”

“When _I_ was seventeen, I was sent to Earth on a 50/50 chance that I’d survive,” Miller joked.

Jackson chuckled. “That’s definitely more interesting than going to school _after_ finishing school.” 

The soldier shrugged, disagreeing. He was silent for a moment before smirking once more.

Jackson’s eyes widened, alarmed at the look on Miller’s face. “ _What?”_

“Next question: how many boyfriends have you had? Or, er… girlfriends?”

Jackson rolled his eyes playfully. “Just boyfriends. And the answer is two.”

Miller’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Pray, tell.” It’s almost surreal how they talked as if they weren’t about to get killed any moment soon. Miller let that thought slide out of his head. As long as Jackson’s distracted and not thinking about it, Miller will keep this conversation up for as long as it took.

“They weren’t that serious,” Jackson replied, shrugging. “I had my first boyfriend when I was nineteen; his name was Cole, another apprentice. He was too pretentious. Kept correcting me while we were studying.”

“Sounds like an asshole. Next.”

Jackson grinned. “I dated an engineer, Rafael, when I was twenty-two. We lasted two years. He was nice.”

“But?”

“I was too busy,” Jackson admitted. “I was rushing through the apprenticeship, working late hours. He got bored and broke up with me.”

“Now _that’s_ a dick move,” Miller commented. Jackson laughed at that – too loud, even, that some of the other prisoners turned to their direction. The man looked away in embarrassment, Miller laughing quietly beside him, forehead falling on Jackson’s shoulder.

They talked in more hushed volumes for god knows how long, the rest of the dying world long forgotten. Miller was in the middle of telling a story of his life on the Sky Box when the heavy metal door suddenly pushed open, the entire room falling to silence. However, instead of Azgeda warriors, Clarke walked inside, a few Skaikru guards behind her.

“Took you long enough,” Miller said sarcastically.

Relieved, he stood up, extending his still-bound hand to Jackson, helping him rise to his feet. The both of them got their chains removed while Clarke went to talk to her mother. Once she was done, she walked over to Miller, urgency in her face.

“I need you to get Raven and the others back to the bunker as quickly as you can,” she ordered, sounding rather rattled, which was odd.

“Wait, they gave us the bunker?” Jackson asked, confused.

Clarke took a breath. “Not exactly.”

Miller was swift to decide that whatever plan Clarke had in mind, he’s onboard. He’s trusted Clarke before, and so far, she’s never let him down. “Okay.”

Before he could go, though, Jackson grabbed his arm. “I’ll go with you.”

Clarke watched the two of them for a beat before nodding. “Alright. Be back as fast as you can. Stay safe.”

Miller shot her a signature smirk before moving out. “Always.”

+

When they arrived at the bunker, it was back to work.

Miller stopped Jackson by Medical before going to his own job. Ever since their long chat at the prison cell, he’d felt as though he’d known the man his entire life. It was an odd yet welcome feeling.

Miller hadn’t felt that way in a long time.

Clarke had filled them in on the situation on the way to picking up their friends from Becca’s island. Miller was doubtful of the plan for a moment, but he quickly warmed up to it. Although it was admittedly cruel to allow thousands of Grounders to die in the Death Wave, _they_ had to survive.

And survival was never easy. Miller learned that early on.

He’d been directing people towards their respective rooms and work stations, making sure nobody fell out of place. Shortly after, Miller had been summoned to the main office to detain Bellamy.

He didn’t like that part.

Bellamy was one of his closest friends. They’ve been beside each other since the dropship. It hurt him having to chain the guy up to a pole. But he had no choice. If they didn’t do anything with Bellamy, he’d just endanger everyone else on the bunker, and Miller can’t have that.

He was guarding Bellamy with another soldier when he was relieved of his work by Murphy. Miller didn’t waste a second longer.

He found Jackson in Medical, right where he left him, arranging boxes of medicine into the cabinets. He watched him work from the doorframe for a while, looking at the toned muscle moving beneath the fabric of the man’s shirt.

Quietly, Miller walked towards Jackson, who was still unaware of his audience. He seemed too engrossed in his work to notice – as he always was.

The soldier was already a foot behind Jackson when he spoke. “Hey.”

Startled, Jackson turned, almost dropping the bottles of medicine from his hand.

Miller offered him a guilty look. But not too guilty. “Sorry.”

Jackson’s shock dissipated when he saw him, a smile forming on his face. He set the bottles carefully on the counter before turning his body towards him. “What are you doing here?”

The soldier was feeling brave. “Can I kiss you?”

“Oh?” Jackson looked like a deer in the headlights, and honestly, it was an adorable look on him.

“End of the world. You’re here. And, as I said, I like you, Jackson.” Miller stood his ground, unashamed at being so straightforward. Jackson didn’t need any more reasons. He smiled; an invitation.

With the doctor’s hands still on the counter, Miller leaned forward, capturing Jackson’s lips with his own. His hand cupped the older man’s face, the other falling on his hip, the cloth soft beneath Miller’s fingers.

It wasn’t at all surprising for Miller to learn that other than excelling in medicine, Jackson was also a hell of a good kisser. His lips were full and plump, mouth moving along Miller’s with impressive technique. Miller snaked a hand behind Jackson’s head, tugging at his hair, pulling him closer.

At that moment, nothing else mattered more than having Jackson within his grasp, moving between his lips.

Honestly, _fuck Praimfaya._

All of a sudden, the door swung open, a familiar voice interrupting them, “Nate, there yo–“

Quickly, Miller detached himself from Jackson, turning to face his stunned father stopping in the middle of the room. He felt like he was sixteen again, caught by Dad bringing a boy to their shared space.

This was the same, yet also incredibly different.

“Hey, Dad,” Miller let out, eager to get the conversation going. He didn’t need to look at Jackson to know how embarrassed the man was.

“Um,” his Dad muttered awkwardly. “I’m sorry for interrupting, Dr. Jackson,” _Oh, God, this is the worst day of my life._ Miller gave his father a pointed look. “But, uh, can I borrow Nate for a second?”

“Sure,” Jackson replied, his voice more high-pitch than usual.

Miller turned to him and gave his hand a soft squeeze before walking out of Medical with his father. It didn’t take long for the older Miller to bring up what he’d just witnessed.

“So. The doctor, huh?”

“ _Dad,_ ” Miller stressed, embarrassed. “Can we… _not_ talk about it?”

“What? I was just gonna say you have great taste in men.”

” _Dad._ ” Miller put an arm in front of his father, both of them stopping from walking. “Let’s not talk about my love life, please?”

His father shrugged, a smile on his lips that said ‘I will not _not_ talk about your love life, son.’ Miller accepted his fate.

As it turns out, his father had needed help with breaking up a fight between two women who’d tried claiming the same bedroom. Miller was more than annoyed; he was absolutely exasperated at being interrupted for _this._

In the end, Miller managed to coax the younger woman to take the bedroom a few doors over – it was slightly smaller in size but still had the same number of bunk beds. She agreed, but not without flipping off the victorious woman who stood proudly in the middle of her more spacious room.

Afterward, Miller came back to Medical.

“Hey,” he announced as he walked inside, Jackson back to work.

“What did your father say?” Jackson’s voice was filled with worry when he turned. He looked like he’d been thinking of what happened ever since the father-son duo left.

Miller placed a comforting hand on Jackson’s shoulder. “Jackson. It’s okay. In hindsight, it’s kind of funny.”

“Ha-ha,” Jackson sarcastically said, already smiling. “Hilarious.”

Miller removed his hand and placed them in his pockets. “Anyway. I was thinking, we haven’t picked rooms yet. There’s a lot to choose from, but I’d prefer one close to the main area, and also still kinda away from people.”

This seemed to put Jackson in a silent state, eyes glazing over for a second. Miller caught himself, realizing he’s probably moving a _bit_ too fast by asking Jackson to live with him for five years.

“Shit, I mean, I don’t know if you wanna room with me,” he stuttered out. “I thought–“

“Yes,” Jackson stopped him. “I’d like that.”

Miller smiled, relieved, his chest bursting with affection. “Okay.”

+

It had been an exhausting day.

Miller felt more emotionally drained than anything, curled up with his arms around his knees in a dark room full of people who were either crying or sitting in silence. He was never a crier himself, but _goddamn it,_ he couldn’t stop the tears falling down his cheeks, silent yet outpouring.

He has been in that position for god knows how long, too busy drowning in his own sadness to even think about doing anything else.

Who could blame him? It’s not every day you wake up from a gas-induced sleep to find out your father hadn’t been saved from the apocalypse. That right now, he’s on the wrong side of the door, all bones and burnt flesh.

_Fuck._

Miller didn’t notice the door open slightly, the light from outside pouring into the dim room. A familiar shadow emerged, moving closer to his sitting figure.

“Nate.” Jackson knelt in front of Miller’s bed, a hand warming up the younger man’s arm.

He remained silent; eyes still firm on the empty space in front of him.

Jackson swallowed. “It’s okay if you want to be alone right now. Just… just know that if you ever need me, I’m here.”

He was about to stand up when Miller spoke, his voice turning out strained and rough. “I’d, uh… I’d like it if you stayed.”

In the darkness, there wasn’t much to see. But Miller felt a presence suddenly on his side, strong arms going around his shoulders. He leaned into Jackson’s touch, closing his eyes.

They sat like that for a long time, breathing and existing.

It was Miller who first spoke. “I wish I’d known you earlier. Like, on the Ark.”

He couldn’t see him, but he felt Jackson smile. “Alpha Station wasn’t exactly huge. Maybe we’ve crossed paths and didn’t notice.”

Miller shook his head. “Nah. I definitely would’ve noticed _you._ ”

“Maybe if you came to lectures every once in a while…”

A soft chuckle escaped Miller’s mouth. Then, he realized he’d stopped crying. What only remained were the fresh tracks of his tears. His chest felt lighter, already starting to feel better just by talking with Jackson.

“I’m glad I know you now, though.”

Jackson hummed, pressing a kiss on Miller’s temple. “Me, too.”

As they’re pressed against each other in a display of intimacy, Miller has never felt so sure of his intense feelings for Jackson.

Fate was funny, he quipped. Out of all the places and time periods the two of them could have developed a relationship, it decided that _this_ – trapped underground in an old bunker for five years – was the perfect time for them.

It was actually beautiful to think, that after all this time, there was some invisible string tying Jackson to him.

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to add that moment (in the aftermath of A.L.I.E. in s3) when kane said miller and jackson were tending to the wounded back up at the tower. i believe that's when they really noticed each other, but i already wrote that first line about jackson getting shot lmao. 
> 
> let me know if you want a fic of that. i'd love to write about it, since bryan was also present at that time.


End file.
